


26. Lunch at Citadel

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [26]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	26. Lunch at Citadel

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

"I'll have the beef carpaccio and a large house salad, oil and vinegar on the side," Antony tells the waiter, handing over his menu as he stretches his legs out under the table, quite enjoying the beautiful spell of not too-crazy-hot weather. "And another pint thanks." He grins across at Stephen, thankful for the dark sunglasses he's wearing since otherwise, he's pretty sure he'd give them both away.

"Shouldn't it be me, wearing the TV star camouflage?" Stephen teases. It's been a lovely day so far, waking up beside his man after a couple more weeks apart - some pottering around picking up groceries and now lunch. He shuffles in his seat again, he's not stopped fidgeting since he parked his butt, thanks to the rather brutal nature of his Sir's 'Hey I missed you' reunion scene.

Antony laughs, watching Stephen shift repeatedly, well aware he's the cause and rather proud of it. "It's not a huge deal if someone recognizes me. It's just better if I keep things low-key, especially given that," he says as another photographer very obviously takes their picture from across the street. "Doesn't this drive you nuts?"

Shrugging Stephen grins as he takes a drink from his own pint of beer. "Only if I let it," he doesn't even glance over. "Just over a year ago, they wouldn't have been interested in me, now it's a sign, a superficial one, that I've arrived." And if there's a slightly mocking tone to his voice at the end there, he'll not deny it.

"What do you say when they ask you in interviews about your personal life?" Antony asks, breaking off a piece of bread from the loaf in front of them.

"That it's private," Stephen pulls a face, "I don't think I'd be any more interested in sharing that if I was straight, it's my business."

Antony nods. He's always kept his private life under lock and key. "But your PR team doesn't give you shit? About not being seen with a lovely or two on your arm?"

"After the shit I got into this last year? No they're just grateful that I'm being discreet now." And there's a wicked twist to his smile. Like he's enjoyed tormenting them.

That gets another laugh and Antony runs the toe of his boot up under the cuff of Stephen's jeans, nudging his ankle. "At least photos don't show you being squirmy," he says with a grin.

"Oh stop looking so pleased with yourself, you're such an evil bastard." Shifting again, tipping his weight onto one hip he gives Antony the eye.

"That's what happens when I'm away from you for two weeks," Antony says, his voice kept low, his words for them alone. "All that pent-up frustration, all those nights thinking about my boy..."

"Stop it!" Stephen rumbles, because fuck, his dick just twitched at that, and the last thing he needs is to be getting a hard on. At least he's wearing underwear today - he'd had to, after Antony had used him as his 'dirty fucking cum dump' for 12 hours straight. Fuck. "Your sadism has a time and place," he adds, giving his lover a mock scowl, though the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Like five o'clock at Citadel?" Antony teases, grinning, the toe of his boot brushed over Stephen's ankle again.

"You've got plans haven't you?" Stephen accuses, he's getting to know Antony's little tells. "Care to share with the class?"

Antony grins, a wicked glint in his eye. "Didn't you just tell me to stop it? And now you're asking for details."

"Bastard," Stephen grouses, eyes cutting away when the waiter returns with Antony's fresh pint.

"I'm going to get a t-shirt, either that or a patch to put on my cap," Antony says, giving his brim a quick tug.

Stephen waits until the waiter retreats before leaning in with the pretence of retrieving some bread to murmur, "How about getting it tattooed on your ass, or better yet your dick?" He quirks a brow before slouching back in his seat and winking.

Stephen should know better than that. "I'll do my cock but only if we do yours first," Antony says, taking a sip of his pint.

He's about to snark back, but then the thought settles, and he begins to contemplate just how fucking painful that would be...and how...wrong. Shit. He shifts in his seat again and shoves a lump of bread into his mouth before he gets himself into any more trouble.

Antony contemplates his lover for a long moment, tempted to tease even more, when luckily for Stephen, their food arrives. "Mm. That looks good," he says, nodding at Stephen's plate, suddenly starving when only a minute before he was fine.

Stephen had a ‘fuck it’ moment when he'd ordered, and now he's glad he did. Gnocchi in a spinach and pine nut sauce, smothered in three cheeses. Hell yes. "It smells amazing," he leans over the dish and inhales appreciatively. "Oh man I'm gonna enjoy this."

"Me too," Antony says, poaching a piece of gnocchi from Stephen's plate with his fork and popping it into his mouth with a grin. His own food looks good but Stephen's looks even better.

"Next time, I'll fork your thieving fingers," Stephen warns, tugging his dish closer and waving his fork threateningly at his lover. "Eat your own."

"I'll remember you said that later," Antony warns back, digging into his carpaccio which is sliced perfectly, with just the right amount of olive oil, capers and parmesan.

"Please don't," Stephen murmurs as he shoves a forkful of cheesy gnocchi into his mouth.

Interesting. "You don't like the idea of being 'punished'?" Antony air quotes.

"No." And even Stephen's surprised at the speed of his reply. "Well...I don't think so."

"But you're not sure?" Antony pours some oil on his salad, adds a dash of vinegar, giving it a toss with his fork before adding a touch of salt and pepper.

"I think it's case dependent, and where my head's at," Stephen offers, as he swipes a dumpling through sauce. "I don't know."

Antony nods. "Fair enough." He smiles at Stephen, watching him eat. "Is there anything else we need to get while we're out?" he asks, changing the subject completely.

"No, I don't think so," Stephen shakes his head. He spares a glance at the photographer across the street. "I could do with a gym session this afternoon, either at yours or the club is good."

"How about the club, before our appointment?" Antony suggests, resisting the urge to look at the asshole across the street again. "You won't be in any shape after."

"Appointment?" Stephen looks up sharply. _That's an odd choice of words for a play date..._.

"I had a few special requests," Antony clarifies casually. "They said they could have everything set up by five."

"Oh..." It's all Stephen can manage, he picks up his napkin and uses it cover his face while he collects himself. His composure regained he returns to his food. "So yeah, the gym," he nods.

Antony's tempted to push but Stephen might never come out with him again if he does. Instead he nods as well. "I'll leave you to do that and make some phone calls while we're there."

"Are you away again soon?" Stephen asks, a few minutes later - having made a big dent in his food. "I only just got you back." And having Antony 'back' means lots of fucking, lots of scening and a temporary move back into his lover's apartment. His life is pretty shit he thinks wryly.

"I know," Antony says, finishing off his carpaccio, "but I have this job I've been putting off for a bit cause it wasn't near anything else and Marcus is insisting we do it next week."

"Marcus is _demanding_ you do something?" Stephen cocks an amused brow at that. "Really? That is something I'd pay to see," he teases. "Where is it? Outer Mongolia?"

"No. Ireland," Antony says with a laugh, "but half the shit we do is Middle East and Africa..." he shakes his head, switching out his empty plate with his salad. "Marcus is getting some leeway because he's been pouting about all the time I spend with you." He grins, knowing Marcus would kill him for describing it that way.

"Hmm, well he can suck it up, he still gets you more than 50% of the time, and I'm not the one being demanding," Stephen points out with a grin. "Not my fault I'm so fucking irresistible is it?" he teases.

Antony nods. "That's what I told him. I said he was like a fucking teenage girl with all the texts he sends me."

Stephen snorts out a laugh. "He is a bit full on," he observes, but he leaves it there. "I bet that went down like a tonne of bricks huh?"

Antony chuckles. "He told me to go fuck myself."

"Hmm, I'd tell him that's my job...but..." Stephen wrinkles his nose at the joke, and laughs. "Sounds like he should get laid."

"Probably, but I'm not going to tell him that," Antony says, laughing as well. "He always seems to be turning people down," he explains, "so I don't have a clue what turns his crank."

"And you've never wanted to find out?" Stephen spears the last dumpling and runs it through the remaining sauce before popping it into his mouth with a happy sigh.

Antony contemplates the question for a moment then answers seriously, honestly, "He never pinged as gay, so I never thought about making a move on him, and when I realized he didn't ping as straight either, I decided to leave well enough alone." He chuckles. "If you ever meet him, you'll see what I mean."

"Now that is just plain creepy," Stephen drops his fork and uses his napkin for real this time. "Don't you think?"

"I guess so," Antony says with a shrug. Marcus has been his right hand man for so long he's given up thinking about it for the most part. "But he's loyal to a fault. I just think he's... asexual, or whatever."

"Well, yes, let's just leave that there," Stephen decides, picking up his pint glass and taking a drink.

Antony laughs. "Agreed. You interested in dessert?" he asks, nodding at Stephen's empty plate.

"I'm always interested in dessert," Stephen rolls his eyes, "Have you not figured this out about me yet?" But he shakes his head. "I'd love to, but that," he nods at his empty plate, "was swimming in calories, and I have the gym to tackle before I have some mystery thing this evening, maybe I can have something tonight, a reward?"

Antony grins. "Of course. Are you sick of salted caramel yet?" he asks, motioning to their waiter for the bill.

Stephen snorts. "As if!!" He shakes his head, "No, but I only eat it when I'm with you now..."

"So I'm associated with your favourite dessert..." Antony teases, wishing for a moment he was free to touch his lover out here. "I like that."

"It was deliberate, when I taste salted caramel, I think of you," Stephen shrugs and looks away, unwilling to look at his lover and Sir for fear of what he'd give away.

Antony starts to respond but the waiter drops by with their bill and he hands over his credit card, quickly entering his PIN on the handheld unit. "You ready to go?" he asks Stephen, pocketing the receipt.

"Yep," Stephen smiles his thanks to the waiter and pushes up out of his chair. All their bags were left in the car before they came here, so he steps aside for Antony and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets.

"Are they going to fucking follow us all the way to the car?" Antony asks, shaking his head as the one photographer across the street is joined by two more.

"Probably," Stephen falls in beside Antony and ignores the men across the street. "Ignore them," he murmurs.

"As opposed to beating the shit out of them?" Antony jokes. Mostly. "Another time I can call in a couple of my guys and have them run interference."

"Heh, I never thought about that, would it be weird if you had a couple of your guys keeping an eye on me?" Stephen throws Antony a look as they aim toward the car. "It'd be either a bit stalkerish, or an extension of my Sir's protection."

"I vote for the second," Antony says, already thinking about who would be suitable. "I don't like you having to deal with this," his voice kept low as the assholes close in, not even trying to hide that they're photographing them now.

"It's vaguely annoying sure," Stephen admits as they reach the car and he pops the locks so they can both climb in. "But it just comes with the success of the show," he shrugs it off. Stephen's not entirely sure how he feels about Antony's sentiment. If this was coming just from his lover, he'd be more inclined to tell Antony to stop worrying, but from his Sir?...Well that actually makes him feel cherished - something he'd asked for from the beginning.

"Maybe, but a lot of them don't know when to stop," Antony says, getting in. "Citadel?"

"Sure," Stephen agrees, a little distracted by the turn of the conversation. "I threw a bag in the back with some clothes in, so yeah, not a problem."

Antony pulls out of the parking lot, shaking his head as the men actually run alongside the car. "If you don't want me to put someone on you, I won't, but if you're okay with it, I'll give you one of my guys and he can cover you whenever you're out and about. He won't hang right on you but he'll make sure he's around in case they get out of hand." He looks over at Stephen. "I'd feel better if you said yes."

Rubbing over his mouth Stephen has to think about it. He's torn between protesting he can look after himself and that he's not _that_ famous he needs someone to have his back, but equally, this is his lover, and he doesn't want Antony worried when he's away. "I'll give it a try, a trial, okay?" he offers a little reluctantly.

Antony nods. "Okay, for a month," he says, knowing how many of their clients have been a little freaked out at first by having coverage.

"Okay." He glances over at his lover. "If they'd overstepped today, you'd have been all over them wouldn't you? Before I'd even have a chance to deal with it myself," Stephen asks, his tone even.

"Probably," Antony replies, not sure if it's what Stephen wants to hear or not. "I could get away with it a lot better than you could."

"I don't know if it's a healthy thing to think or feel, but if it was you as Sir, telling me to take protection, telling me that you'd step in to protect me, I'd be accepting that as your right. But...as me? As Stephen? I'm feeling pretty ambiguous about it, and I don't like that I'd be so happy to just give it up if you did assert yourself over me. Does that even makes any fucking sense?" Stephen blows out a frustrated breath.

Antony nods. "It does," he says, "but the thing is, you _are_ a celebrity, your profile's growing, you don't have eyes in the back of your head and I've seen what the paps do. And what crazed fans can do. And I can't be here all the time, but I have men and women who are trained to do this and you'd be doing me a favour if you'd accept my having one of them watch over you. In my place. So you can accept that from both sides - as something your Sir wants for you and something your lover is asking from you."

"Okay, thank you." Stephen reaches out to press his hand against Antony's thigh. "Then I'll accept whatever cover you think I need."

Antony glances down then over at his lover, his boy. "Thank you," he murmurs. "How long do you want in the gym?"

"How physical is the scene you have planned?" Stephen asks in return, his forefinger rubbing the denim covering Antony's thigh.

"Not very," Antony answers, giving it a moment's thought, very aware of Stephen's touch. "I plan to have you restrained for a good part of it."

He blinks for a moment and then in a voice gone a little rough, "Okay, I need two hours."

Antony grins at the change in Stephen's voice. "See? I said you were better off not knowing."

"No, not necessarily," Stephen manages a smile. "But I've got two hours of weights and cardio to plow through first."

"Incentive?" Antony teases.

"I don't know about that," Stephen laughs now. "With you? I think it's going to start becoming a fine line between endurance and pleasure," he teases back.

Antony laughs, checking behind them in the rear view mirror before making the next turn. Not that he really expects the paps to have followed them but being careful's solidly ingrained. "Do you know how to box?" he asks, thinking about Stephen's workout.

"Not properly, do you?" Stephen looks up, he studies his lover as he negotiates the traffic.

"Yeah." Antony nods. "It's a good workout and the skills come in handy," he says. "I think I told you I own an boxing gym? We sometimes train guys there but otherwise it's left empty."

"Would you teach me? To do it properly?" Stephen turns a little in his seat, not paying any attention to the journey now.

"Sure. It'd be fun. You're already in such good shape," Antony says, stopping at a red and smiling over at Stephen. "You want to go tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Can I see what shape you leave me in after tonight before I commit to a Boxing Date?" Laughing, Stephen shakes his head.

Antony laughs too. "You can," he says with a nod, taking the next left. "Although I plan on leaving you in pretty good shape. Physically anyway."

"You know and I know it's not always about the physical, especially the way you get in my fucking head these days," Stephen remarks drily, he's really starting to wish he didn't have to work out before they can play...because...damn!

"I do," Antony says more seriously, giving Stephen another smile as they pull up in front of the mansion. There's a line-up which isn't at all unusual for this time on a weekend but the guards are good, quickly checking IDs and telling members where to park. Meeting Stephen on the sidewalk, he takes his hand, which he's been wanting to do all fucking day. "You want to text me when you're done?"

Even now that simple touch, palm to palm, sends a shiver of electricity shooting over Stephen's skin, he leans in a little closer, until he can feel Antony's body heat against his arm. "Yeah sure," he murmurs. "You don't want to come watch me shift some weights then?" he asks - just a little flirtatiously.

"You don't think I'd be a distraction?" Antony asks, nodding at the doorman as he opens the heavy wood door for them.

"No, not when I'm concentrating," Stephen shakes his head, bestowing a smile on the doorman as he passes. "It's up to you."

"I suppose I could make my calls from the sitting area," Antony says, too tempted to resist.

"I've got warm up and some cardio to do first, if you want to come find me after, say an hour? I'll be moving onto weights." He hikes his gym bag up on his shoulder and lets go of Antony's hand. "S'up to you Tony."

"Go on. I'll be there," Antony promises, giving Stephen a kiss, because the only reason he was going to make calls in the first place was so Stephen could work out, but if he can watch his boy, so much the better.

When he's got his workout to get through, Stephen gets single minded and focused. So after an initial scan of the seating beyond the pool for his Sir as he heads for the mats to warm up, he doesn't check again. He pulls his attention inward, focusing on his body and the work he has to make it do. Warm up - cardio - weights and finally a warm down to loosen up again. By the time he's done he's drenched in sweat and buzzing from an endorphin kick. Only then, as he leaves the room, does he throw another look over to see if Antony was there.

Antony waves and finishes the call he's on, leaving his empty coffee cup behind as he heads for the gym. He and Marcus got a surprising amount done over the phone, firing plans and such back and forth over their encrypted signals. Years working together means they can have people hanging over their shoulders and not give anything away so the small gaggle of members moving back and forth through the cafe hadn't been a disruption of any kind. In the meantime, he'd been able to watch his boy work out, muscles rippling, tight ass catching his eye again and again. He's a lucky man.

A hot but swift shower, fresh clothes and Stephen makes his way out to his Sir, a light buzz making him a little wide eyed. All he can think about now is Antony, and the scene that he has planned - he's ready to submit, ready to give himself over to his lover.

"Hey." Antony gives Stephen a huge smile and a kiss on the mouth, eyes crinkling at their corners as his boy comes out of the gym. "That was fun. You looked so hot in there."

"Fun? I have that slightly jelly feeling going on in my legs, sure sign I worked hard enough." Stephen nuzzles happily against Antony's mouth. "Hmmm, now I'm all yours my darling man."

"I meant me watching you. That was fun," Antony murmurs, licking into Stephen's mouth before he forces himself to pull back. "So our room should be ready. Go ask the concierge for the key. It's under 'Mr. Starr's fuck toy'."

Stephen nods, hikes his bag up and steps away. "Yes Sir," he murmurs. He heads out to the reception area and for the main desk. The key retrieved without incident he returns to his Sir who is waiting off to one side.

Antony holds out his hand for the key card. "Everything okay?"

A quick nod, "Yeah, I...I need to get some water or juice before we start, I don't want to crash before you're ready for me to." He hands over the card.

"There's juice and water upstairs but we can stop in the bar if you want?" Antony offers.

"No, no, the room is fine, I just needed to let you know before we start in seriously," Stephen waves at the elevators. "I'm good."

"Okay." Antony links their fingers together again, wanting to spend these last few minutes just touching, like this, when they spent all morning not being able to. "I want you to take your time with your juice though. Don't let what you see rush us."

"Oh, okay," Stephen nods, and now he's all kinds of curious. Nervous too.

_continued in the next part_


End file.
